Marina and the Malaises Mature content No. 197 Published December 29th, 2020 10:46am pst read ( words) Past entries "Thirty-four thousand lines since the images which caused me to reevaluate all of life. Thirty-eight thousand since this year began, more than the entire site prior to the same. Unreal. I don't know why Marina is here. She struck me several years ago and I was reminded the other day. Nothing more, really. Lovely woman, head to toe, but as far as a part of this entry being focused upon her? Nada. Merely something to look at. Still 12-28 and after lunch. The other day I had the wide-eyed idea to put on the third Indiana Jones installment after seeing an image of Ford on the television. That is a great film, hands down one of the best adventures I've ever seen. That was perhaps four days back, I think. I only watched half as I was in the midst of my routine and steered away from Trek for something different. Well... Another slam this morning as I decided to put the remainder of the film in the background while cleaning our kitchen. Not right away, mind you, but at the end of the story precisely when the knight waves to Indiana and his party as they leave the temple. It was bad. Tears in my eyes, the feeling that the past is even further back than I had realized, and the memory of seeing the movie in the dome right smack dab at the beginning of the glowing years. Fuck me. I did it again, and without a clue as to what may take place when seeing that beautiful moment flow by on the big screen again. Oh, I've seen it several times during the intervening years, but never before has that particular time been imprinted upon one of the most poignant shots in memory. He stood there with a blank, yet somewhat defeated expression and slowly raised his arm to show a gesture of friendship as the walls began to tumble. I was floored like never before and the period currently ruling my depression hit me in the face like a ton of binders filled with photographs of my past life. Damn it. I didn't need this today, and right on the edge of the end of the world, as well. That era keeps coming back and the reason may be my own subconscious and not the movies or other reminders. I really did not appreciate it as much then as I do now, but such a statement applies to many parts of life. I have felt it when selling one of my watches while in need of money and later ended up buying another of the same model because I missed it. I keep thinking of the idea that often the feeling of 'wanting' can be more demanding and overpowering than that of 'having'. I cannot disagree. The time in question -- which is coming to this space more and more lately -- did not feel then as it does now, and such a fact is expected and understandable. Times and feelings change constantly. We see events and situations at the time and then years go by and they look altered, surreal, or otherwise different. We can't help it. Human nature. This is very difficult to explain. The more days which pass each month, the deeper I fall into dreams of what took place during those four years. The mall, theatres, family, vacations, and even work appear as if they are floating in a cloud reserved specifically for the most pleasant memories. Damn The memories are tough in that they force me to make comparisons between differing periods of my life, resulting in the idea that any part other than the present was more fulfilling. This is not good. I am already down in the hole enough to feel the weight of time passage and more behind than ahead. Just this year -- mostly since the change of the world last spring -- I have gone over and over some of the events and other activities that took place during the glowing years. At no time during the intervening decades did I drown myself so much into all of it. Just four Christmases now stand above those which came before, although I must admit that the early years were wrought with problems beyond my control. I was just too young. Family issues can often be out of any individual's grasp. Ugh. I am going to have to come to terms with the disappearance of what now feels like a life turned to dust. The present must take priority and living in the past is not good, even if I have made a fucking career of it. Each day I am presented with a clean slate to do anything I need or desire. I've written here for months about the days and hours between driving south and the options before me at the outset of each. Sometimes I move along just fine and work toward the evening diligently, while other times I find myself stagnant and nearly unable to move at all. The difference is in the 'reward' or some such satisfaction in having worked myself to earn a relaxing evening. When the past comes to mind, I see any reward or enjoyment as minimized, like it can be only so good for me. Compared to what I recall and how that glowing period feels, the 'now' appears minuscule at best. Nothing can be as good, bright, or fun, so the effort in getting through a given day becomes almost useless. As I keep saying, this is bad. My state of mind is pushing the reality to the rear in favor of dreaming of all that is gone. I should not be doing this at all. Memories are fine, but when they take me away from the real world and force me into further depressive territory, the end result may one day be dire behavior. Maybe I am overanalyzing, but honestly I do feel at a loss within the current era. Nothing is on the horizon. Nothing is exciting anymore. About the best I can expect is that nice, quiet evening, some agreeable meals, and the comforting embrace of alcohol. Yes, I said that. So, where do I go from here? Well, I've already decided that I will continue in this vein until one of two situations comes to pass. Either I can live with everything which took place and look back fondly from time to time like a real, grown-up individual, or I will descend further until reaching a point in which I am cut off from the world and drown into the imagery and memories completely, leaving none of me for anything else. I have no idea of which is better, nor can I predict what may happen. Right now? More of this. Switch. Fuck Does anyone recall the phrase, 'I don't need to see that'? What about the 'two words'? Well, I do, and after the last few days they have been pushed to me through both the television and one person in the neighborhood. Once again I am through the floor with this shit and tired of it beyond words. Still, I have been unable to move along past it and continue to see the future carrying me into a void sans other people just for protection. Nice, right? I do not see another way out of this fucking shit. And yes, I am referring to the second issue, and one which affects me in very different ways than the other three. Actually, there may be five, but I have no wish to start over with something new right now. There are enough dumbbells hanging on my brain. 12-29. Ok, I am no longer thinking in similar veins as yesterday. Maybe the cold is affecting my brain. Coffee and morning news means I am here for a good hour before I have to get things ready for her to leave. After that, I may sit with this again because I have a hell of a lot of time. Trouble is brewing again, this time in the form of visions in the dreams and my head circling around just moments ago. The simplicity of a pair of shorts coupled with boots on a woman has the capability of sending me down the rabbit hole once again. I see, I remember, and then I react. Just like back in zero three when I spied an ad in a magazine with the woman in a very specific and mysterious position, my brain took the image and ran with it... Right into the arms of Juliette. None of that is available these days, but I've gone over such things so many times now that you can probably repeat all of it verbatim. The fact remains that I am weakened to the point of being fragile now. The simplest reference conjures a bevy of emotions and I end up on the floor, very unhappy and feeling as if the end is near. This is not good. Fragile, sensitive, and worried. Allie and her big eyes, but not looking the same as months ago. Cute, but different somehow. I was going to rise this morning and work on the trail smoke of yesterday, but I don't see it right now. Sure, the concern remains as it did, yet my wording may not get the point across as it should. I had been dropping like a rock during the late morning yesterday and I thought I was done for by lunch time. Well, everything faded a little and left me to myself without a complete breakdown. The wording and situational analysis will return soon enough and push me into the bad places, no doubt. I am guessing just not right now and I don't know the reason. Just twenty-four hours back I was very worried and now things are quite calm. Perhaps my best avenue is to embrace the calm and go about my day as if everything is fine. Today will be the first full day since Tuesday last in which I will have the house to myself all day. I'll be getting a full dose of alone, just like much of the last many months since the first shelter order. Interesting. I must remain strong with regard to everything pressing my head into a bra cup and keep busy, lest the day go south with the geese. I cannot have that. There is plenty for me to do, always. It is simply a matter of getting out there to do it. The cold may restrict some business, though. Right now I don't know because it is still dark outside and pretty damned cool in here. The furnace is currently recovering, so I am sitting in a low temperature and awaiting the laptop to heat my fingers a bit. The coffee may go more quickly than in the last several days. Heh. Ugh I've mentioned two of the malaises, and only touched upon the third. That last one is a toughie, though. I can't really spell it out. Visions did it -- like always and throughout history -- and just in the last few minutes I have recalled another. The feeling, too. I am talking about an article in a game magazine (no, not video games, there were very few of those in the early eighties) which I had brought along to work puzzles when my dad and I went camping many years ago. I flipped through to see some of the brain teasers and ran across something I had not expected. At that age, everything appeared wondrous but often caused lots of difficulty. The same type of situations arise these days but feel very different. That is just too much to explain. The fact is I saw a model splayed across the pages and her appearance stirred me to the core, remained inside for quite a long time, and left me yearning. I still do that. Yes, I really do. Just a glimpse and I am up in arms. Back to the glow... I saw a clip of one of the Bay Area's freeways (an interstate, something we have tons of), and flashed to driving up and down a certain section in anticipation of visiting the woman with whom I was involved at the time. Wondrous memories of those trees flying by, the massive lines of oleanders along the median, and some of my favorite street names from the southern half of the region passing overhead on their gigantic signs. Streetlights, too. And in case you didn't know, part of a long chase scene from 'Terminator 2: Judgment Day' was filmed on that same stretch of road, along with the huge climax full of police cars exploding not far from there. We were all up in arms over being able to see some of the action while they worked on the film. And yes, that was taking place during the years which melt me these days. Anyway, driving down there meant we were having dinner, going out somewhere, maybe shopping in that area I keep talking about, or simply visiting together whenever we had the time. Wow. Damn it. We found each other during the fall of eighty-nine which means shortly thereafter we rolled into the first holiday season together. And so it began. Sometimes everything is just shit. I am getting tired of the situation here at home driving me to dream of all things unreal because it is not good for me, but this is how I developed throughout the last ten years since coming from the other side of the fucking bay. Some is my doing, some is that of others. I don't need it and would love to tell some people to go find a hole in the ground. I can't. They are no longer available to me. So, problems over and over and fucking over. The memories are an escape of sorts and nothing more. They cannot return any more than I can awaken in the morning next to Jaime. Not happy. Ok, enough of the bitching. I have to get off my ass in a minute and fill her car up with gas or I'll be driving, and I really don't feel like doing so. The morning is fine, but these days by the time the afternoon rolls around I have no wish to leave the house. Eh... Fuck it anyway. My time doesn't matter. If I'm here all day, thoughts will fuck me up. Out in the world I need to be vigilant, hence preoccupied. Maybe that is better for a morning such as this when my head continually descends into the pants of whatever shapely woman happens to appear up there on the television. I'll drive. The music may help, too. I don't want this morning to turn south and into intolerable territory like so many others. The drive will create a schedule of sorts and hopefully keep me on track. As tough as the visions can be, there are situations which tax me to the limit and planning my time wisely will keep them at bay. Jesus Christ, Marina. Enough already... I guess I can no longer watch the films I mentioned at the beginning of this mess. Thoughts take me right off my feet and I end up worthless in more ways than one. Add to that one of the images from the past and I am completely finished for a while. The battle in my head begins and concentration is gone. I suppose if I focus upon the selling or cleaning I can keep a steady keel today. Maybe. All I can do is try. The light is coming up nicely but the mercury is very low. The furnace is fighting the lack of insulation in this little house and slowly winning. Oy. Almost time to get myself together and her stuff ready. Today is going to be chilly but I can maintain pace regardless. Some work yesterday left this day wide open, it seems. I have a watch to list for auction, some other items to check out for possible selling, and more of the house to care for. I don't know what may come along during the day, though, so keeping up a front is necessary. The 'after' me must be at the forefront of my mind in case of weakness. I never liked that state, so thinking about the fruit of my actions is important. The 'before' state has been apparent since before I awakened. Vigilance. Effort. Distraction. And none of it is easy due to the never-ending wonder attached to dreams. The other word is 'impossibility'. Ugh. And that word is at work right fucking now. The morning has moved along like always, the drive is out of the way -- as is most of my daily routine -- but the problems have not subsided at all. This is tough. The machine came to mind while I showered and then a fall of moderate proportions over the fact that such a dream cannot be possible in this life. Earlier I mentioned keeping myself busy and distracted. Really? With the pull just below the surface of everything in the world? Not easy. The front wants to fall down, too. Good thing I am alone for hours, otherwise someone might see the effort and comment. I can't have that right now. Damn it, anyway. Distraction and chores may not be enough. As I have stated in the past, and with regard to the machine, I will not apologize for feeling as I do toward wants and needs. This life has shown me disrespect, uncaring behavior, and coldness, leaving me in such a state as I could have never imagined. The next six hours may be the toughest in recent memory." 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Marina and the Malaises Mature content No. 197 Published December 29th, 2020 10:46am pst read ( words) Past entries "Thirty-four thousand lines since the images which caused me to reevaluate all of life. Thirty-eight thousand since this year began, more than the entire site prior to the same. Unreal. I don't know why Marina is here. She struck me several years ago and I was reminded the other day. Nothing more, really. Lovely woman, head to toe, but as far as a part of this entry being focused upon her? Nada. Merely something to look at. Still 12-28 and after lunch. The other day I had the wide-eyed idea to put on the third Indiana Jones installment after seeing an image of Ford on the television. That is a great film, hands down one of the best adventures I've ever seen. That was perhaps four days back, I think. I only watched half as I was in the midst of my routine and steered away from Trek for something different. Well... Another slam this morning as I decided to put the remainder of the film in the background while cleaning our kitchen. Not right away, mind you, but at the end of the story precisely when the knight waves to Indiana and his party as they leave the temple. It was bad. Tears in my eyes, the feeling that the past is even further back than I had realized, and the memory of seeing the movie in the dome right smack dab at the beginning of the glowing years. Fuck me. I did it again, and without a clue as to what may take place when seeing that beautiful moment flow by on the big screen again. Oh, I've seen it several times during the intervening years, but never before has that particular time been imprinted upon one of the most poignant shots in memory. He stood there with a blank, yet somewhat defeated expression and slowly raised his arm to show a gesture of friendship as the walls began to tumble. I was floored like never before and the period currently ruling my depression hit me in the face like a ton of binders filled with photographs of my past life. Damn it. I didn't need this today, and right on the edge of the end of the world, as well. That era keeps coming back and the reason may be my own subconscious and not the movies or other reminders. I really did not appreciate it as much then as I do now, but such a statement applies to many parts of life. I have felt it when selling one of my watches while in need of money and later ended up buying another of the same model because I missed it. I keep thinking of the idea that often the feeling of 'wanting' can be more demanding and overpowering than that of 'having'. I cannot disagree. The time in question -- which is coming to this space more and more lately -- did not feel then as it does now, and such a fact is expected and understandable. Times and feelings change constantly. We see events and situations at the time and then years go by and they look altered, surreal, or otherwise different. We can't help it. Human nature. This is very difficult to explain. The more days which pass each month, the deeper I fall into dreams of what took place during those four years. The mall, theatres, family, vacations, and even work appear as if they are floating in a cloud reserved specifically for the most pleasant memories. Damn The memories are tough in that they force me to make comparisons between differing periods of my life, resulting in the idea that any part other than the present was more fulfilling. This is not good. I am already down in the hole enough to feel the weight of time passage and more behind than ahead. Just this year -- mostly since the change of the world last spring -- I have gone over and over some of the events and other activities that took place during the glowing years. At no time during the intervening decades did I drown myself so much into all of it. Just four Christmases now stand above those which came before, although I must admit that the early years were wrought with problems beyond my control. I was just too young. Family issues can often be out of any individual's grasp. Ugh. I am going to have to come to terms with the disappearance of what now feels like a life turned to dust. The present must take priority and living in the past is not good, even if I have made a fucking career of it. Each day I am presented with a clean slate to do anything I need or desire. I've written here for months about the days and hours between driving south and the options before me at the outset of each. Sometimes I move along just fine and work toward the evening diligently, while other times I find myself stagnant and nearly unable to move at all. The difference is in the 'reward' or some such satisfaction in having worked myself to earn a relaxing evening. When the past comes to mind, I see any reward or enjoyment as minimized, like it can be only so good for me. Compared to what I recall and how that glowing period feels, the 'now' appears minuscule at best. Nothing can be as good, bright, or fun, so the effort in getting through a given day becomes almost useless. As I keep saying, this is bad. My state of mind is pushing the reality to the rear in favor of dreaming of all that is gone. I should not be doing this at all. Memories are fine, but when they take me away from the real world and force me into further depressive territory, the end result may one day be dire behavior. Maybe I am overanalyzing, but honestly I do feel at a loss within the current era. Nothing is on the horizon. Nothing is exciting anymore. About the best I can expect is that nice, quiet evening, some agreeable meals, and the comforting embrace of alcohol. Yes, I said that. So, where do I go from here? Well, I've already decided that I will continue in this vein until one of two situations comes to pass. Either I can live with everything which took place and look back fondly from time to time like a real, grown-up individual, or I will descend further until reaching a point in which I am cut off from the world and drown into the imagery and memories completely, leaving none of me for anything else. I have no idea of which is better, nor can I predict what may happen. Right now? More of this. Switch. Fuck Does anyone recall the phrase, 'I don't need to see that'? What about the 'two words'? Well, I do, and after the last few days they have been pushed to me through both the television and one person in the neighborhood. Once again I am through the floor with this shit and tired of it beyond words. Still, I have been unable to move along past it and continue to see the future carrying me into a void sans other people just for protection. Nice, right? I do not see another way out of this fucking shit. And yes, I am referring to the second issue, and one which affects me in very different ways than the other three. Actually, there may be five, but I have no wish to start over with something new right now. There are enough dumbbells hanging on my brain. 12-29. Ok, I am no longer thinking in similar veins as yesterday. Maybe the cold is affecting my brain. Coffee and morning news means I am here for a good hour before I have to get things ready for her to leave. After that, I may sit with this again because I have a hell of a lot of time. Trouble is brewing again, this time in the form of visions in the dreams and my head circling around just moments ago. The simplicity of a pair of shorts coupled with boots on a woman has the capability of sending me down the rabbit hole once again. I see, I remember, and then I react. Just like back in zero three when I spied an ad in a magazine with the woman in a very specific and mysterious position, my brain took the image and ran with it... Right into the arms of Juliette. None of that is available these days, but I've gone over such things so many times now that you can probably repeat all of it verbatim. The fact remains that I am weakened to the point of being fragile now. The simplest reference conjures a bevy of emotions and I end up on the floor, very unhappy and feeling as if the end is near. This is not good. Fragile, sensitive, and worried. Allie and her big eyes, but not looking the same as months ago. Cute, but different somehow. I was going to rise this morning and work on the trail smoke of yesterday, but I don't see it right now. Sure, the concern remains as it did, yet my wording may not get the point across as it should. I had been dropping like a rock during the late morning yesterday and I thought I was done for by lunch time. Well, everything faded a little and left me to myself without a complete breakdown. The wording and situational analysis will return soon enough and push me into the bad places, no doubt. I am guessing just not right now and I don't know the reason. Just twenty-four hours back I was very worried and now things are quite calm. Perhaps my best avenue is to embrace the calm and go about my day as if everything is fine. Today will be the first full day since Tuesday last in which I will have the house to myself all day. I'll be getting a full dose of alone, just like much of the last many months since the first shelter order. Interesting. I must remain strong with regard to everything pressing my head into a bra cup and keep busy, lest the day go south with the geese. I cannot have that. There is plenty for me to do, always. It is simply a matter of getting out there to do it. The cold may restrict some business, though. Right now I don't know because it is still dark outside and pretty damned cool in here. The furnace is currently recovering, so I am sitting in a low temperature and awaiting the laptop to heat my fingers a bit. The coffee may go more quickly than in the last several days. Heh. Ugh I've mentioned two of the malaises, and only touched upon the third. That last one is a toughie, though. I can't really spell it out. Visions did it -- like always and throughout history -- and just in the last few minutes I have recalled another. The feeling, too. I am talking about an article in a game magazine (no, not video games, there were very few of those in the early eighties) which I had brought along to work puzzles when my dad and I went camping many years ago. I flipped through to see some of the brain teasers and ran across something I had not expected. At that age, everything appeared wondrous but often caused lots of difficulty. The same type of situations arise these days but feel very different. That is just too much to explain. The fact is I saw a model splayed across the pages and her appearance stirred me to the core, remained inside for quite a long time, and left me yearning. I still do that. Yes, I really do. Just a glimpse and I am up in arms. Back to the glow... I saw a clip of one of the Bay Area's freeways (an interstate, something we have tons of), and flashed to driving up and down a certain section in anticipation of visiting the woman with whom I was involved at the time. Wondrous memories of those trees flying by, the massive lines of oleanders along the median, and some of my favorite street names from the southern half of the region passing overhead on their gigantic signs. Streetlights, too. And in case you didn't know, part of a long chase scene from 'Terminator 2: Judgment Day' was filmed on that same stretch of road, along with the huge climax full of police cars exploding not far from there. We were all up in arms over being able to see some of the action while they worked on the film. And yes, that was taking place during the years which melt me these days. Anyway, driving down there meant we were having dinner, going out somewhere, maybe shopping in that area I keep talking about, or simply visiting together whenever we had the time. Wow. Damn it. We found each other during the fall of eighty-nine which means shortly thereafter we rolled into the first holiday season together. And so it began. Sometimes everything is just shit. I am getting tired of the situation here at home driving me to dream of all things unreal because it is not good for me, but this is how I developed throughout the last ten years since coming from the other side of the fucking bay. Some is my doing, some is that of others. I don't need it and would love to tell some people to go find a hole in the ground. I can't. They are no longer available to me. So, problems over and over and fucking over. The memories are an escape of sorts and nothing more. They cannot return any more than I can awaken in the morning next to Jaime. Not happy. Ok, enough of the bitching. I have to get off my ass in a minute and fill her car up with gas or I'll be driving, and I really don't feel like doing so. The morning is fine, but these days by the time the afternoon rolls around I have no wish to leave the house. Eh... Fuck it anyway. My time doesn't matter. If I'm here all day, thoughts will fuck me up. Out in the world I need to be vigilant, hence preoccupied. Maybe that is better for a morning such as this when my head continually descends into the pants of whatever shapely woman happens to appear up there on the television. I'll drive. The music may help, too. I don't want this morning to turn south and into intolerable territory like so many others. The drive will create a schedule of sorts and hopefully keep me on track. As tough as the visions can be, there are situations which tax me to the limit and planning my time wisely will keep them at bay. Jesus Christ, Marina. Enough already... I guess I can no longer watch the films I mentioned at the beginning of this mess. Thoughts take me right off my feet and I end up worthless in more ways than one. Add to that one of the images from the past and I am completely finished for a while. The battle in my head begins and concentration is gone. I suppose if I focus upon the selling or cleaning I can keep a steady keel today. Maybe. All I can do is try. The light is coming up nicely but the mercury is very low. The furnace is fighting the lack of insulation in this little house and slowly winning. Oy. Almost time to get myself together and her stuff ready. Today is going to be chilly but I can maintain pace regardless. Some work yesterday left this day wide open, it seems. I have a watch to list for auction, some other items to check out for possible selling, and more of the house to care for. I don't know what may come along during the day, though, so keeping up a front is necessary. The 'after' me must be at the forefront of my mind in case of weakness. I never liked that state, so thinking about the fruit of my actions is important. The 'before' state has been apparent since before I awakened. Vigilance. Effort. Distraction. And none of it is easy due to the never-ending wonder attached to dreams. The other word is 'impossibility'. Ugh. And that word is at work right fucking now. The morning has moved along like always, the drive is out of the way -- as is most of my daily routine -- but the problems have not subsided at all. This is tough. The machine came to mind while I showered and then a fall of moderate proportions over the fact that such a dream cannot be possible in this life. Earlier I mentioned keeping myself busy and distracted. Really? With the pull just below the surface of everything in the world? Not easy. The front wants to fall down, too. Good thing I am alone for hours, otherwise someone might see the effort and comment. I can't have that right now. Damn it, anyway. Distraction and chores may not be enough. As I have stated in the past, and with regard to the machine, I will not apologize for feeling as I do toward wants and needs. This life has shown me disrespect, uncaring behavior, and coldness, leaving me in such a state as I could have never imagined. The next six hours may be the toughest in recent memory."
Marina and the Malaises
Mature content No. 197 Published December 29th, 2020 10:46am pst read ( words) Past entries
"Thirty-four thousand lines since the images which caused me to reevaluate all of life. Thirty-eight thousand since this year began, more than the entire site prior to the same. Unreal. I don't know why Marina is here. She struck me several years ago and I was reminded the other day. Nothing more, really. Lovely woman, head to toe, but as far as a part of this entry being focused upon her? Nada. Merely something to look at. Still 12-28 and after lunch. The other day I had the wide-eyed idea to put on the third Indiana Jones installment after seeing an image of Ford on the television. That is a great film, hands down one of the best adventures I've ever seen. That was perhaps four days back, I think. I only watched half as I was in the midst of my routine and steered away from Trek for something different. Well... Another slam this morning as I decided to put the remainder of the film in the background while cleaning our kitchen. Not right away, mind you, but at the end of the story precisely when the knight waves to Indiana and his party as they leave the temple. It was bad. Tears in my eyes, the feeling that the past is even further back than I had realized, and the memory of seeing the movie in the dome right smack dab at the beginning of the glowing years. Fuck me. I did it again, and without a clue as to what may take place when seeing that beautiful moment flow by on the big screen again. Oh, I've seen it several times during the intervening years, but never before has that particular time been imprinted upon one of the most poignant shots in memory. He stood there with a blank, yet somewhat defeated expression and slowly raised his arm to show a gesture of friendship as the walls began to tumble. I was floored like never before and the period currently ruling my depression hit me in the face like a ton of binders filled with photographs of my past life. Damn it. I didn't need this today, and right on the edge of the end of the world, as well. That era keeps coming back and the reason may be my own subconscious and not the movies or other reminders. I really did not appreciate it as much then as I do now, but such a statement applies to many parts of life. I have felt it when selling one of my watches while in need of money and later ended up buying another of the same model because I missed it. I keep thinking of the idea that often the feeling of 'wanting' can be more demanding and overpowering than that of 'having'. I cannot disagree. The time in question -- which is coming to this space more and more lately -- did not feel then as it does now, and such a fact is expected and understandable. Times and feelings change constantly. We see events and situations at the time and then years go by and they look altered, surreal, or otherwise different. We can't help it. Human nature. This is very difficult to explain. The more days which pass each month, the deeper I fall into dreams of what took place during those four years. The mall, theatres, family, vacations, and even work appear as if they are floating in a cloud reserved specifically for the most pleasant memories.
Damn
The memories are tough in that they force me to make comparisons between differing periods of my life, resulting in the idea that any part other than the present was more fulfilling. This is not good. I am already down in the hole enough to feel the weight of time passage and more behind than ahead. Just this year -- mostly since the change of the world last spring -- I have gone over and over some of the events and other activities that took place during the glowing years. At no time during the intervening decades did I drown myself so much into all of it. Just four Christmases now stand above those which came before, although I must admit that the early years were wrought with problems beyond my control. I was just too young. Family issues can often be out of any individual's grasp. Ugh. I am going to have to come to terms with the disappearance of what now feels like a life turned to dust. The present must take priority and living in the past is not good, even if I have made a fucking career of it. Each day I am presented with a clean slate to do anything I need or desire. I've written here for months about the days and hours between driving south and the options before me at the outset of each. Sometimes I move along just fine and work toward the evening diligently, while other times I find myself stagnant and nearly unable to move at all. The difference is in the 'reward' or some such satisfaction in having worked myself to earn a relaxing evening. When the past comes to mind, I see any reward or enjoyment as minimized, like it can be only so good for me. Compared to what I recall and how that glowing period feels, the 'now' appears minuscule at best. Nothing can be as good, bright, or fun, so the effort in getting through a given day becomes almost useless. As I keep saying, this is bad. My state of mind is pushing the reality to the rear in favor of dreaming of all that is gone. I should not be doing this at all. Memories are fine, but when they take me away from the real world and force me into further depressive territory, the end result may one day be dire behavior. Maybe I am overanalyzing, but honestly I do feel at a loss within the current era. Nothing is on the horizon. Nothing is exciting anymore. About the best I can expect is that nice, quiet evening, some agreeable meals, and the comforting embrace of alcohol. Yes, I said that. So, where do I go from here? Well, I've already decided that I will continue in this vein until one of two situations comes to pass. Either I can live with everything which took place and look back fondly from time to time like a real, grown-up individual, or I will descend further until reaching a point in which I am cut off from the world and drown into the imagery and memories completely, leaving none of me for anything else. I have no idea of which is better, nor can I predict what may happen. Right now? More of this. Switch.
Fuck
Does anyone recall the phrase, 'I don't need to see that'? What about the 'two words'? Well, I do, and after the last few days they have been pushed to me through both the television and one person in the neighborhood. Once again I am through the floor with this shit and tired of it beyond words. Still, I have been unable to move along past it and continue to see the future carrying me into a void sans other people just for protection. Nice, right? I do not see another way out of this fucking shit. And yes, I am referring to the second issue, and one which affects me in very different ways than the other three. Actually, there may be five, but I have no wish to start over with something new right now. There are enough dumbbells hanging on my brain. 12-29. Ok, I am no longer thinking in similar veins as yesterday. Maybe the cold is affecting my brain. Coffee and morning news means I am here for a good hour before I have to get things ready for her to leave. After that, I may sit with this again because I have a hell of a lot of time. Trouble is brewing again, this time in the form of visions in the dreams and my head circling around just moments ago. The simplicity of a pair of shorts coupled with boots on a woman has the capability of sending me down the rabbit hole once again. I see, I remember, and then I react. Just like back in zero three when I spied an ad in a magazine with the woman in a very specific and mysterious position, my brain took the image and ran with it... Right into the arms of Juliette. None of that is available these days, but I've gone over such things so many times now that you can probably repeat all of it verbatim. The fact remains that I am weakened to the point of being fragile now. The simplest reference conjures a bevy of emotions and I end up on the floor, very unhappy and feeling as if the end is near. This is not good. Fragile, sensitive, and worried. Allie and her big eyes, but not looking the same as months ago. Cute, but different somehow. I was going to rise this morning and work on the trail smoke of yesterday, but I don't see it right now. Sure, the concern remains as it did, yet my wording may not get the point across as it should. I had been dropping like a rock during the late morning yesterday and I thought I was done for by lunch time. Well, everything faded a little and left me to myself without a complete breakdown. The wording and situational analysis will return soon enough and push me into the bad places, no doubt. I am guessing just not right now and I don't know the reason. Just twenty-four hours back I was very worried and now things are quite calm. Perhaps my best avenue is to embrace the calm and go about my day as if everything is fine. Today will be the first full day since Tuesday last in which I will have the house to myself all day. I'll be getting a full dose of alone, just like much of the last many months since the first shelter order. Interesting. I must remain strong with regard to everything pressing my head into a bra cup and keep busy, lest the day go south with the geese. I cannot have that. There is plenty for me to do, always. It is simply a matter of getting out there to do it. The cold may restrict some business, though. Right now I don't know because it is still dark outside and pretty damned cool in here. The furnace is currently recovering, so I am sitting in a low temperature and awaiting the laptop to heat my fingers a bit. The coffee may go more quickly than in the last several days. Heh.
Ugh
I've mentioned two of the malaises, and only touched upon the third. That last one is a toughie, though. I can't really spell it out. Visions did it -- like always and throughout history -- and just in the last few minutes I have recalled another. The feeling, too. I am talking about an article in a game magazine (no, not video games, there were very few of those in the early eighties) which I had brought along to work puzzles when my dad and I went camping many years ago. I flipped through to see some of the brain teasers and ran across something I had not expected. At that age, everything appeared wondrous but often caused lots of difficulty. The same type of situations arise these days but feel very different. That is just too much to explain. The fact is I saw a model splayed across the pages and her appearance stirred me to the core, remained inside for quite a long time, and left me yearning. I still do that. Yes, I really do. Just a glimpse and I am up in arms. Back to the glow... I saw a clip of one of the Bay Area's freeways (an interstate, something we have tons of), and flashed to driving up and down a certain section in anticipation of visiting the woman with whom I was involved at the time. Wondrous memories of those trees flying by, the massive lines of oleanders along the median, and some of my favorite street names from the southern half of the region passing overhead on their gigantic signs. Streetlights, too. And in case you didn't know, part of a long chase scene from 'Terminator 2: Judgment Day' was filmed on that same stretch of road, along with the huge climax full of police cars exploding not far from there. We were all up in arms over being able to see some of the action while they worked on the film. And yes, that was taking place during the years which melt me these days. Anyway, driving down there meant we were having dinner, going out somewhere, maybe shopping in that area I keep talking about, or simply visiting together whenever we had the time. Wow. Damn it. We found each other during the fall of eighty-nine which means shortly thereafter we rolled into the first holiday season together. And so it began. Sometimes everything is just shit. I am getting tired of the situation here at home driving me to dream of all things unreal because it is not good for me, but this is how I developed throughout the last ten years since coming from the other side of the fucking bay. Some is my doing, some is that of others. I don't need it and would love to tell some people to go find a hole in the ground. I can't. They are no longer available to me. So, problems over and over and fucking over. The memories are an escape of sorts and nothing more. They cannot return any more than I can awaken in the morning next to Jaime. Not happy. Ok, enough of the bitching. I have to get off my ass in a minute and fill her car up with gas or I'll be driving, and I really don't feel like doing so. The morning is fine, but these days by the time the afternoon rolls around I have no wish to leave the house. Eh... Fuck it anyway. My time doesn't matter. If I'm here all day, thoughts will fuck me up. Out in the world I need to be vigilant, hence preoccupied. Maybe that is better for a morning such as this when my head continually descends into the pants of whatever shapely woman happens to appear up there on the television. I'll drive. The music may help, too. I don't want this morning to turn south and into intolerable territory like so many others. The drive will create a schedule of sorts and hopefully keep me on track. As tough as the visions can be, there are situations which tax me to the limit and planning my time wisely will keep them at bay.
Jesus Christ, Marina. Enough already...
I guess I can no longer watch the films I mentioned at the beginning of this mess. Thoughts take me right off my feet and I end up worthless in more ways than one. Add to that one of the images from the past and I am completely finished for a while. The battle in my head begins and concentration is gone. I suppose if I focus upon the selling or cleaning I can keep a steady keel today. Maybe. All I can do is try. The light is coming up nicely but the mercury is very low. The furnace is fighting the lack of insulation in this little house and slowly winning. Oy. Almost time to get myself together and her stuff ready. Today is going to be chilly but I can maintain pace regardless. Some work yesterday left this day wide open, it seems. I have a watch to list for auction, some other items to check out for possible selling, and more of the house to care for. I don't know what may come along during the day, though, so keeping up a front is necessary. The 'after' me must be at the forefront of my mind in case of weakness. I never liked that state, so thinking about the fruit of my actions is important. The 'before' state has been apparent since before I awakened. Vigilance. Effort. Distraction. And none of it is easy due to the never-ending wonder attached to dreams. The other word is 'impossibility'. Ugh. And that word is at work right fucking now. The morning has moved along like always, the drive is out of the way -- as is most of my daily routine -- but the problems have not subsided at all. This is tough. The machine came to mind while I showered and then a fall of moderate proportions over the fact that such a dream cannot be possible in this life. Earlier I mentioned keeping myself busy and distracted. Really? With the pull just below the surface of everything in the world? Not easy. The front wants to fall down, too. Good thing I am alone for hours, otherwise someone might see the effort and comment. I can't have that right now. Damn it, anyway. Distraction and chores may not be enough. As I have stated in the past, and with regard to the machine, I will not apologize for feeling as I do toward wants and needs. This life has shown me disrespect, uncaring behavior, and coldness, leaving me in such a state as I could have never imagined. The next six hours may be the toughest in recent memory."
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